


Insidious

by TricksyPixie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Curse Breaking, Curses, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Self-Esteem Issues, Misunderstandings, and overthinks everything, but dont worry geralt fixes it, maybe? is this humor? idk yall, or so jaskier thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28987026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksyPixie/pseuds/TricksyPixie
Summary: He knew Geralt found him annoying on a good day. This was not a good day. He had been cursed to be magically annoying, everyone hated him, and Geralt would leave him in the dust, he just knew it! He was doomed. Doomed!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: Bard Bingo- BIKM Bingo





	Insidious

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble written for the BIKM discord's bingo challenge! Praise be to Kate! This is for prompt 37, "insidious".

"What does she see in  _ you, _ when she won't even give me the time of day anymore, huh?"

Jaskier looked up from his ale, mildly alarmed. The man looming over his table seemed viciously angry, tone dripping with contempt. "I beg your pardon?" 

"You know who I'm talking about, you craven little popinjay. Lanna! I'm kind to her, I listen to all her whiny little problems, but then you swan into town crowing your drivel and she lifts her skirts soon as talks to ye!" 

So the barmaid from last night had had an admirer who fancied he owned her. Of course. Jaskier huffed a sigh, resisting the urge to roll his eyes - he'd had a long day and didn't need this right now. "Have you ever, I don't know, talked to Lanna about this?" 

"The bitch doesn't want me! She turned me down! Me! But she beds you? You must have bewitched her. But I came prepared. I bought a charm just for you, you useless little twit, because I'm going to bewitch you back. All your worst traits will be so magnified they'll be all anyone can see."

Jaskier had just enough time for a moment of confusion before everything went dark.

The next few days were hellish. He woke up the next morning fully clothed and sprawled haphazardly atop the blankets - thankfully the village was small enough that the only tavern was also the inn, so he had been hauled upstairs to the room he’d paid for rather than dumped outside in the gutter - though now surely the innkeep thought him the worst kind of lush. He hadn’t drunk enough to black out in public since Oxenfurt, hated not remembering what he’d done, not knowing what he’d made people think of him. As if that wasn’t enough, the splitting pain in his head made it hard to even walk straight, much less be charming to the people who’d been forced to put him to bed like a child. Not that it would even be sure to work… what had the man said the charm did? Magnified his worst traits? He knew he could be grating, was often too much for people when interacting in more than the smallest of doses. This was a nightmare. He had to find Geralt. 

Fortunately, he and Geralt had already planned to meet up just a few days from now, a few towns over. Jaskier hurried there, trying to stay away from other people, worried about what they would see in him. The few people he was forced to interact with were far less friendly than usual, confirming his worst fears. As he reached the place where he and Geralt had planned to meet, worry began to creep in - would Geralt even help him? At first the thought was easy to brush aside. Of course Geralt would help him, helping people is what Geralt does. It’s very nearly who he is! Besides, it had been years since Geralt had actively tried to leave him behind, he was mostly sure by now that they were friends for all Geralt insisted they weren’t. But… he had only ever come along on sufferance and he knew Geralt found him annoying on a good day. This was not a good day. He had been cursed to be magically annoying, everyone hated him, and Geralt would leave him in the dust, he just knew it! He was doomed. Doomed! 

Just as the insidious fears began to truly take hold of him, Geralt walked in. Jaskier had rushed so hard he’d arrived a half day early to their meeting place, and had spent the entire afternoon tucked up in a corner booth, fretting himself to pieces. He called Geralt’s name, and the witcher seemed deeply disconcerted to find his flamboyant friend hiding in the shadows. 

“Jask? What’s going on?”

“I’ve been cursed, that’s what’s going on! This awful brute a few towns back took a dislike to me, and used a - he said he’d bought it, he must have gone to a mage, perhaps Yennefer was passing through, this seems like something she’d do! I’ve been cursed and now everyone hates me, Geralt, you have to help me!”

Geralt gave him a long, measuring stare, first simply holding his medallion, then leaning in to touch it to Jaskier’s arm. “You don’t look, smell, or feel cursed. What happened? What exactly did he say to you?”

As Jaskier recounted the whole sorry tale, describing as best he could recall what the man had said and what the item he’d hit Jaskier with had looked like, Geralt began to smirk. “What? What is it? I’m sorry, is my suffering amusing to you? You know my profession relies on being likable!” 

“You’re not cursed, bard.”

“I - what? Then why did no one give me a second glance, the whole way here? You weren’t there, Geralt, you didn’t see how they treated me!” 

Geralt looked pointedly at the secluded corner they were sitting in, and then at the spot by the hearth Jaskier would normally choose on his own, the better to draw attention to himself. 

“Well yes, of course I’ve been trying to keep a low profile, I’m cursed! I didn’t want to get stoned out of town!” 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “He bought that charm from a hedgewitch. All it did was mimic the effects of too much alcohol. He said it’d bring out your worst traits because hangovers like that will make anyone act like a bear with a sore head.”

“Then why have people been so much less nice to me? Usually people love me! At least until I sleep with their spouses. Or defend you to the wrong bigot. Or spend more than three days with them.  _ Anyway _ my point is that I’ve always done something to earn their ire, something that makes sense, not just exist!”

Geralt huffed a sigh. “Do you really not get it?”

“Get what, you ridiculous creature? What am I not getting? What is there to get, if not that I’ve been cursed?”

“People… like you, Jaskier. They like how you treat them. Lots of people who are curt with strangers are kind to you because you make them feel good.”

Jaskier gaped at him. “Was that a genuine compliment, from the great White Wolf himself?”

“Hmm. Don’t get used to it.”

“So you’re saying that I, what, was so frightened of people’s rejection that I stopped doing the things that make them accept me in the first place? Melitele, that’s a nasty mind game to do to a fellow.”

“You’re giving him too much credit, bard. You’re perfectly capable of tying yourself in knots all on your own.”

“Hey!”

As their well-worn banter continued, Jaskier felt it settle something inside him. No matter how villagers treated him, no matter how annoying some may find him, Geralt was his friend, and that was enough. 


End file.
